


The Nation's Eagle

by LindirSaysNo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Brothers Germany & Prussia (Hetalia), Other, prussia fading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 09:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16783852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindirSaysNo/pseuds/LindirSaysNo
Summary: The fall of Prussia, and how Roderich and Ludwig contributed to his demise. Rated K for description of battlefield and very slight gore. Not historically accurate and just for the angst aesthetic, but I hope you guys enjoy xx





	The Nation's Eagle

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or any of the characters in this story. I'm not making any money off of this, and It was written due to entertainment purposes only.
> 
> This fic is also posted on fanfiction.net (MapleGilbird) with more hetalia paraphernalia I wrote years ago.
> 
> Enjoy!

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I declare war,

What will you do?

Gilbert gasped, trying in vain to catch his breath as the crusting blood partly obscured his vision. He ran with his sword in front of him, giving blind strikes in a futile attempt to create a path for him in the midst of the war. Fresh blood ran down his forehead as a spearhead glinted near his face and he cursed, stumbling on the irregular terrain. Ignoring the bodies of both men and horses underfoot and the terrified, agonising screams as they were cut down, he ran and ran, wishing that he wasn't immortal; hoping that this was a dream and the nights of terror he anticipated wouldn't arrive. He was dragged out of his desperate thoughts by a familiar voice he had once treasured hearing. But not now. Not ever again.

''Hallo bruder.''

The roses are wilted,

The violets are dead,

When you betrayed me

My broken heart bled.

'Bruder.'' Gilbert's voice was hoarse and scratchy, and he coughed at the friction caused by chalky air in his throat. He leaned wearily on his sword, eyes darting in the thick, dust filled air, expecting an attack; a trick. His brother was ingenious, but he had never expected to be betrayed by him, even when he knew of Ludwig's irrefutable need- no, lust, for power.

''why did you betray me, West?'' he asked weakly. The words sounded pathetic even to Gilbert's own ears.

''Betray you?!'' Ludwig repeated incredulously. Something dark flashed behind his eyes. ''I, betray you?! Roderich, come here, bitte.''

Gilbert's cousin Roderich materialised from the dense rifle smoke. The aristocrat glared at Gilbert and assumed his station aside Germany.

''Guten tag Prussia.'' He sneered. ''and don't expect an ambush. We will deal with this, ah, 'personal' matter ourselves.''

''Ja.'' Ludwig added, '' And anyway, it would be immoral to ambush a dying man.''

''Dying?'' Gilbert spluttered. With a haughty pride unsuited for his current situation he began to scoff ''I am not dying-'', only to be cut off by a fit of coughs that brought the bitter metallic tang of blood to his mouth.

''Ja, ja,'' Roderich said dismissively, raising an eyebrow.

With a grimace Ludwig exchanged a look with Roderich, and taking hold of Gilbert's arms, dragged him with them to their trench. With near silent groans, Prussia dug his nails into his marred flesh as each explosion reduced the Prussian Empire to rubble. His boots disturbed the darkly stained ground, and a copper dust rose to cover his path. Some mixed with the gunpowder smoke in the air. Some came to rest on his bloodied uniform. Some fell onto his white lips, painting them in abstract smears as Roderich took a gun and aimed it at his chest. Ludwig knelt by his side. He had recovered a damaged Prussian flag, and folding it into a neat rectangle, laid it over Gilbert's eyes. All was dark. Roderich cocked the gun. 

The sky was black,

The ground was red,

An albino despaired,

Awaiting death.


End file.
